The Apprentice
by Recce-Pizza
Summary: Julian Thomas is the tearaway son of an extremely famous and recently deceased musician. He is also the newly recruited apprentice to the Clown Prince of Crime. Joker & O/Cs. Drugs/Swearing/Violence.


A/N Hi-hi! This is the first chapter of a story I've been working on for a while but one that I never really find time to work on...if ya know what I mean. Anyway, depending on whether I get any feedback(nevermind good or bad, feedy is feedy!) I don't know if I'm gonna upload the whole thing. Still needs alot of work anyway and I'm not too sure about the title.

It's got a big back story as well but I'm only gonna go into that if people actually like it.

Anyway thanks for reading and pleeeease review!

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**The Apprentice**

**Chapter One - 'Two Birds One Stone'**

"Dad, just calm down, okay?"

"I can't believe what he just did! I can't believe he actually stood there and laughed!"

"I know, dad, but you know what he's like- he's crazy!"

"Crazy? Crazy! Crazy doesn't cover it, James! The boy's insane."

"He's cold, dad, but he's struggling to come to terms with all this-"

"-Don't give me that crap, James, he hated your mother- he's glad she's dead!"

"That's not true. No matter how hard he tries to hide it or lie to himself, he did love mom, and he still does. Laughter is... just his way of coping."

Nicholas Thomas turned away from his eldest son, James. He looked out over the cemetery; row upon row of headstones, mostly white marble but some grey and black mixed in as well.

The cemetery was spread out around a smooth hill with a few trees scattered here and there amongst the graves, and a white church stood a few hundred yards away from where Nicholas and James stood at-top of the hill.

It was nearly evening now; the hot sun had already began its rapid descent into the ground, burning a bright red-gold colour and causing several nearby clouds to blush pink. Just on the blurry horizon, the magnificent skyline of Gotham could be seen; its skyscapers and high rises domineering the sky, their windows reflecting the crimson light of the dying sun.

A satisfying breeze ran through the cemetery, brushing through Nicholas' soft, blonde, neatly combed hair as he gazed down below him at the mourners, bedecked in black, already making their way back down the long, sweeping, gravel-filled drive that led to the carpark beyond the church and cemetery grounds.

He spotted his second eldest son, Adrian, shaking hands with various people and looking like the business man he was born to be in his black funeral suit and matching grief-stricken face.

The light wind rustled noisily through the healthy green leaves of the tree behind Nicholas and James. Nicholas heard the crack of a twig and turned quickly to see another man also dressed in a plain black funeral step out from behind the tree. If it hadn't of been for the clown make-up, Nicholas just would've thought him a stray mourner- even with the scars.

James, who had also been staring out at the sunset, turned around; his jaw dropping as he saw the terrorist off the television before his very eyes.

"You!" he gasped, shocked not only by the sudden appearance of Gotham's most wanted but also by his father's lack of shock or warning. Nicholas just stood there, waiting for the Joker to speak- or attack.

The clown smiled; his eyes flickering between Nicholas and James.

It took Nicholas a few moments to grasp the hint but when he finally did, he managed to whisper to his son, "catch up to the others."

"What?" James cried, incredulous, "and leave you alone with him?No way!"

"James, just go, now," Nicholas croaked.

"No!" James shouted defiantly, looking directly at his father, who remained fixated on the Joker.

Quickly losing his temper due to the forthcoming danger he sensed for his son's life, Nicholas grabbed James by the back of his suit jacket and launched him down the hill and away from himself and the advancing Joker, screaming, "Go!"

James stumbled but caught himself before he fell to the ground. He looked around at his father, not wanting to leave him in such a dangerous situation but unable to drag him away on his own. He turned and swiftly made his way through the cemetery, hoping to find his brother, Adrian, and possibly some of the other funeral guests to come and help rescue his father.

After seeing his son leave, Nicholas turned back to the Joker who still did not say anything.

It had been a while since the Joker had appeared on the news- a few years, possibly. Nicholas had heard rumours. He'd heard that the Joker had been killed, that he was in Arkham; there were lots of them. Some of the rumours claimed that Batman had killed him, but Nicholas had never believed those ones.

And now here the infamous criminal stood before him, wearing black out of respect for someone...someone's death- his wife's murder. How strange. This man, this _'Joker'_, had probably never even considered the consequences of his actions before; probably never even thought about how quickly he'd ended someone's life- lot's of people's lives. How many had he killed? Maimed? Tortured?

And yet here he was, in a funeral suit. He looked almost as though he _was_ in mourning- but in a playful, mocking sort of way, like he was pretending. Maybe he was actually upset and the scars just gave off the impression that he was laughing at you. But it was hard to know- he was insane after all, or so they said.

Nicholas glanced at the scars that distorted the Joker's face into a permanent yet haunting smile. He wasn't afraid of them like some people were; he'd seen too many carved smiles in his time- at one point in his life, the actual carving of them had been his job. He shuddered mentally at the thought of his past; it was a long time ago and he'd put it to the back of his mind in order to try and forget about it.

Tired of waiting for him to speak, Nicholas suddenly asked, "What are you doing here?"

A wide grin spread across the Joker's face, made even wider by the hideous scars which plagued either side of his mouth.

"Well," he began, smugly, "When I heard about my _favourite_ guitarist's _tragic_ death, I just couldn't believe it! Had to come see the bitch buried for myself- make sure she really was dead."

"You mean...you had nothing to do with her murder?" Nicholas asked, tentatively, but he wasn't scared of the Joker, just scared of what he might do to his family.

"Certainly not, Nicho-larse!" The Joker said, drawing out the last syllable of Nicholas' name. "How could you think something like that?" he questioned in a mock-hurt voice.

"Easily, where you're concerned," Nicholas muttered.

"Aww, I'm stung- I really am," the Joker said, "I really did just come to pay my last respects!"

"Well," Nicholas began, "Now you have...you can go...please?"

"Well there _was_ another reason why I came."

"What is it?" Nicholas asked, knowing that nothing the Joker wanted could ever be good.

"The boy, Julian." Nicholas was right-_ it _could never be good.

"As it happens," the Joker continued briskly and he began to pace slightly on the hilltop. Nicholas was feeling uneasy; he couldn't stay focused on the Joker. "Your late wife owes me a favour- a _very_. _Big_. _Favour_. Annnnd, since she's not _around_ any more- y'know, 'cause she's dead an' all- well, that favour gets passed on to her 'next of kin'," he paused and looked at Nicholas, checking he was following the conversation.

Nicholas clapped a hand to his forehead; a throbbing pain had developed somewhere in the region of the front of his brain. It was probably caused by the Joker's intoxicating insanity.

"Now, the way _I_ see it," the Joker said, finally stopping his pacing and standing, instead, directly in front of Nicholas so as to gain his full focus and attention. He continued, "you wife's next of kin is one of two persons or, as in this case, one person and three people: you or your sons."

"So, you have a decision to make, Nicky-old-boy, and just 'cause I'm a real _nice_ _guy_, I'm gonna throw in this little deal," licking his lips excitedly, the Joker grinned savagely at Nicholas. "The debt can either be passed on to you and your life is the cost of payment, or, the debt is passed on to your wife's children and they pay the price."

"Oh and just to be extra nice, I'm gonna throw in a little somethin' extra! If you choose the kids, I'll let you pick which one gets it!" The Joker was staring intently at Nicholas with a mad glint in his eyes.

Nicholas was stunned. Standing on the hilltop, he had taken in every single one of the Joker's words and his head hurt all the more for it. _'This day will stay with me forever' _he suddenly thought, _'the day I condemn either myself or one of my sons.' _

As though he could his mind, the Joker shook his head wildly like a dog; trying to encourage Nicholas almost, his eyes gleaming and his cackling making the hairs on the back of Nicholas' neck stand up on end.

"Soooooo," the Joker said, playfully,"What's it gonna beee, Nickyyy? You or the kids,"he added in a sing-song voice which quickly changed into a playful serious tone,"I think I already know the answer but correct me if I'm wrong- the kids?"

Nicholas couldn't believe this; how could Kelly have brought this upon him, upon his family? He brought his head up to his eyes and buried his face in it whilst shaking his head resignedly in defeat. His whole body began trembling: he felt weak, he needed to lie down.

The Joker's cackle echoed around the darkening cemetery. The blatant glee in the clown's voice suddenly brought Nicholas' red-hot anger bubbling back up to his throat.

"Soooo, predicament time," the Joker laughed," Well, for _most parents _anyway- but not you, Nick. You see, _most parents _don't have amoral, schitzophrenic, sociopathic, heroin addicts for sons now, do they Nick?"

The Joker lowered his voice to an excited yet serious murmur," Think about it, Nicholas, you could get rid of the boy once. And. For. All. The little bastard would never bother you again."

"Pay me off _and_ rid yourself of Lucifer Jr. I mean, didn't he just _laugh _at your wife- his mother's graveside?" The Joker paused, laughing. Nicholas' shaking was getting worse.

"If that was me," the Joker bit his lip and shook his head solemnly," Kid would've been long dead." He patted Nicholas' shoulder, "Good job you kept him alive this long; now you can give him to me- two birds, one stone."

He grinned malevolently at Nicholas, whose eyes were drawn to the sickening scars on the Joker's face, which looked worse now as his ghostly face loomed out of the darkness.

Nicholas had scars, sure- knife wounds and bullet holes, all from his 'past life', as he referred to it; from his days of working for the Falcone family. But those old battle-wounds had healed exceptionally well, even the ones that had been treated by backstreet doctors whose only medical capabilities were probably being able to mix up a heroin needle. The Joker's scars looked like they'd been hacked away at constantly for at least a few months if not a year or so.

Painfully ripped open again and again, resulting in such badly healed lacerations.

"And I wonder," the Joker continued, bringing Nicholas out of his reverie, "if the rumours are true; that he's not even your son. Why should you look after your slutty wife's kid, huh?"

"No! Don't you-" Nicholas shouted. He would not have his wife insulted- he still loved her.

"Hey, hey, okay...come on Nick, I'm sorry! No offence meant. But it's not a hard choice really. You could just nod your head if you want me to take him," the Joker said quite pleasantly, with both his arms on Nicholas' shoulders as though trying to lift some of the weight off them.

"Why do you want him? Why not me? or James or Adrian? Why him?" Nicholas asked, a note of pleading in his voice.

"Because I really _do_ want to be a nice guy. The situation doesn't often arise when I can be and I know what a menace that kid is to you and your other sons so I thought 'hey, maybe I should help the guy out!' "

"Besides, Nick, just think, one less crazy, psycho, druggy to plague the world. _You_ could save _countless_ lives by letting _me_ take just _one_!"

His words were poison, Nicholas knew that, yet he couldn't help but agree with him. It was obvious the boy was a demon who would no doubt end up slaughtering probably hundreds of innocent people. He certainly had the capacity for evil to do so- and the brains.

And the Joker was right; the kid was mostly likely not even his anyway.

But letting the Joker take him, no he couldn't...could he? How would he explain to James and Adrian that their brother was gone? And Kelly, she would've never forgiven him for handing the boy over. But there were ways round all that.

He could tell James and Adrian that Julian ran away or had just not come home- after all, they were used to him doing that; just taking off one day and not coming back for weeks and sometimes even months at a time.

And Kelly wasn't here anymore, she wouldn't be able to hate Nicholas for his choice because she was dead and besides, this was all her mess anyway: her debt. If she hadn't have got involved with this freak in the first place, he, Nicholas wouldn't have had to hand her son over... would he?

Nicholas made his decision. After thinking all this through he closed his eyes, bent his neck down and nodded his head, vaguely aware that he was sentencing the boy to his, most likely, extremely painful death.

"Excellent!" the Joker yelped, clapping his hands together in joy and the sense of achievement he felt from persuading Nicholas to sell-out his son. He grabbed Nicholas' limp hand and shook it vigorously whilst laughing.

"Where's he gonna be now?"

Nicholas, slightly surprised at having his hand shaken, looked up at the Joker.

"Julian? If he doesn't run off, then at the wake," Nicholas said, grimly.

The Joker didn't say anything, but continued to smile widely at Nicholas.

"What?" Nicholas asked, wondering why he was still staring at him.

The Joker chuckled softly, his gaze not leaving Nicholas' face. His eyes still gleaming, he nodded his head encouragingly at Nicholas.

Nicholas was completely bemused. '_What did he- oh no!' _he thought as comprehension dawned on him.

"No, you can't, there's too many people- you couldn't possibly- no way!" Nicholas spluttered, trying to make the Joker understand and see sense.

"Awww come on, Nicky boy! I promise I won't kill/slaughter/murder/abuse/seduce/whatever _anybody_! I just wanna get the boy."

Nicholas sighed; there was not a chance in hell that he could stop the Joker attending the wake, he might as well just accept his promise not to kill anybody and hope he stuck to it- unlikely, he thought angrily.

He turned on his heel and began climbing down the hill," Come on then," he sighed.

The Joker chuckled and and caught up to him, strolling by his side through the cemetery and its many gravestones. He said in a reflective tone, "Life's a bitch, ain't it, Nick?"

"I mean, first off, you get lumbered with the kid and then you practically have to sign his death warrant. And then," he exclaimed,"If anyone ever found out about what you did, you'd be the one that gets all the dirty looks and hate mail and prison sentences and hell only knows what else!"

"You catch my drift, Nicky boy?" he added as he nudged Nicholas in the ribs with his elbow. "Nobody's to know that I took him- okay? 'Cause then-" he jumped in front of Nicholas, forcing him to stop walking abruptly. Nicholas' arms pinned to his sides as his whole body tensed up in repulsion as the Joker's spindly fingers moved up to his face," -bad things start to happen..."

He laughed as his purple-gloved fingers pulled the corners of Nicholas' mouth into a wide, wicked grin which didn't, and never would, reach his eyes.

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End file.
